Page 55 of Wicked Waters

“Sorry.” Immediately unwinding her arms from around my neck, she placed one hand on my shoulder and slid our fingers together.She stepped away fractionally and gave me a hesitant smile. “I didn’t mean to…I just wanted to make sure we could dance together. If you want to, that is. Dance with me?”

“Don’t you want to dance with Tristan?” I’d assumed she would—their colours even fucking matched, and surely it was a given that the head boy and girl would dance together.

The music started up as she shook her head.“Honestly, no. I’ve spent enough time with Tristan. He’s on the ball committee, not to mention our duties together. It feels like I’ve spent more time with him than my own friends lately.” Her voice lowered. “And don’t tell him I said so, but you’re a much better dancer than he is. You’d be doing me a favour.”

I glanced over at my friend, who was having a silent stare-off with Aria, and smirked. Yeah, maybe this was a good thing. Plus, Penelope was Quinn’s friend, so it wasn’t like I had to worry about wandering hands.

“In that case, yeah. Let’s dance.” We began to move, my body on autopilot as I scanned the crowd surrounding us for Quinn. Fuck. What must she be feeling right now? I honestly thought she would end up being one of the goddesses, and when Aria’s name was read out, it had taken everything in me to keep my face impassive. My mask had been in place all fucking night, in fact, from the second I’d seen my girl across the room, looking so beautiful that I was completely lost for words. I never thought I’d even be capable of the depth of feelings I had for her, but when I’d seen her tonight, I’d found myself submerged, drowning in everything I felt for Quinn Farrow. And I didn’t resist. On the outside, I was untouchable, but inside…

The realisation hit me like a fucking sledgehammer to the face. That four-letter word I’d told myself it was too early for?

I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

“Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” My gaze focused on Penelope before darting away again, back to scanning the surrounding faces. Where was Quinn?

“I just asked if everything was okay. Sorry if I’m overstepping. You just looked like you were deep in thought.”

“Yeah, fine.” I spun her so I could scan the crowds on my other side. How fucking long was this dance? Shouldn’t it be over by now?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, temporarily stealing my focus. Now what? Whoever it was, it couldn’t be important. All my friends were here. Quinn was here somewhere, and I knew for a fact she didn’t have a phone with her because she’d already told me she was leaving it in her room tonight because she hadn’t wanted to carry a bag. I smirked to myself, remembering the fact that Knox’s pockets were stuffed with Elena’s phone and make-up shit, as well as his own phone.

My phone buzzed again, and I let go of Penelope’s waist and shoved my hand into my pocket, attempting to switch it to silent instead of vibrate mode. The buzzing stopped, so I guessed I’d been successful.

“Roman? Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just putting my phone on silent,” I told Penelope, placing my hand on her waist again. She smiled, and I spun her again, scanning the new faces that came into view. Still no Quinn.

A sense of unease crept through my body.

Surely I would’ve spotted her by now?

My unease grew. I shouldn’t have left her. Or got someone to keep an eye on her…except everyone who knew about the shit that had gone down was right here on the dance floor with me and Penelope.

This dance needed to fucking end. Now.

At last, it did. I released Penelope, stepping away. She smiled. “Thanks for the dance, Roman.” Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to my cheek and then left me. I was barely aware of her leaving, too busy looking for Quinn.

“Ro.” Tristan tapped my arm. “Photos.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Penelope hadn’t left at all, no—she’d gone to stand next to Knox and Elena because the fucking photographer wanted to take our photos. My hand went to my crown, my fingers brushing the cool metal, wishing I could rip it from my head. I needed to find my girl.

“Have you seen Quinn?” I hissed to Aria as the photographer arranged us to his liking. She glared at Tristan when he tried to put his arm around her waist before turning to me.

“No, but that’s not surprising. She probably didn’t want to watch that farce of a dance. I don’t blame her.”

“You wound me, little scorpion. Anyone would be happy to dance with me,” Tristan interjected.

She arched a brow. “Were you happy to dance with me?”

Tristan’s grin faded, his expression shuttering, and without another word, he stepped behind Aria, putting an arm around her waist as he’d been instructed by the photographer. I stared at him, but he just shook his head and plastered on a smile for the camera. Giving it up as a lost cause for now, I took my place behind Penelope, lightly gripping her waist and plastering on my own fake smile. The photographer must’ve been able to sense my impatience because she wrapped it up quickly, snapping a few quick photos before instructing us to separate into two groups—one with the gods and one with the goddesses. This time, my smile didn’t need to be faked. I was here with my two best mates, and Aria was probably right. Quinn wouldn’t have wanted to watch the dance. If our positions had been reversed, I wouldn’t have wanted to watch her, either. In fact, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself, and it would have ended with a black eye or two and probably a suspension or worse.

“Mate. Selfie.” Tristan nudged me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah.” I grinned into his camera. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the girls separating, Penelope disappearing into the crowd and Aria and Elena heading towards Katy and Will. Still no Quinn.

We posed for a few photos, alternating between a range of poses, generally fucking around and acting like kids despite the fact that we were all technically adults. When we were done, Tristan scrolled through the selfies, his brows pulling together.“No, wait. I need to be in the middle. You two have dark hair. We need a better aesthetic.” He moved in between me and Knox, slinging his arms around our shoulders. “Ro, you do the honours. I don’t have any free hands.”

---